


Counting Your Blessings

by diana_hawthorne (dhawthorne)



Series: Private Lives [6]
Category: Law & Order
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Stand Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 03:44:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17093402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhawthorne/pseuds/diana_hawthorne
Summary: It's Christmastime, and Mike and Liz have surprises for each other.Set December 1994.





	Counting Your Blessings

This will be the best Christmas yet, she tells herself. Not like last Christmas, immediately after--after, not even like their first Christmas, which was spent both together and apart. This year, they don’t have to worry about how he’ll fit in with her family, where he will sleep, what to get each other. They know each other well, now. He fits in perfectly with everyone--after almost three years together he’s as much a member of the family as her cousins’ wives, if not more than many of them.

She smiles. She can’t wait.

After their first Christmas together, when they hadn’t quite yet made everything official, they made a tradition of him surprising her after work with a tree. He had bought one and set it up in her apartment on a whim one afternoon when she was with her mother; it was such a kind and thoughtful gesture that spoke to the man he was, the one so few people were blessed to see. He hasn’t yet brought home a tree this year--he has time, it’s only the 14th--so she’s made a big deal to him about how she has a late appointment tonight. She knows he has the afternoon off, so she expects to come home and find a beautiful tree waiting for her.

Her “late appointment” is really an excuse anyway. She has to pick up his Christmas present, and while she is so grateful that he has all but moved in with her, it’s made it difficult to sneak away and pick it up. It’s perfect for him, and she quickens her steps, reaching the door to the shop a bit faster as a chill breeze sweeps down the street.

Her godfather Peter had alerted her to this particular item a few weeks earlier, remarking that it was rare for a signed and annotated copy of any Dashiell Hammett to appear at auction. She’d enlisted his assistance to buy it, and he had, contacting the seller to prevent the book from slipping out of their grasp. She grins to herself as she crosses the lobby at Sotheby’s.

‘Yes, hello, I’m here to pick up a purchase. It’s listed under Elizabeth Olivet.’

The supercilious young man behind the desk flips through the heavy bound leather volume, finding her name after a few moments. ‘Of course. Let me just call our books department. Would you like something to drink? You can take a seat over there,’ he tells her, gesturing to the leather club chairs in an alcove.

‘I’m all right, thank you,’ she says, walking to the chairs. She unbuttons her coat, comfortable at last in the warmth of the auction house, and waits.

She doesn’t need to wait long. After a few moments a woman comes down to greet her. She follows her up to the books department and waits for another few minutes while the woman gets the book for her.

It’s even better than it looked in the catalogue. It’s perfect--perfect for him. He’s always been difficult to buy for, but she thinks this--and floor seats to the Knicks, a new sweater, and a few other small things--will be a real winner this year.

She has the book wrapped carefully, pays, and tucks the box it’s been placed in carefully into her purse.

She walks home with a smile on her face despite the cold wind coming off the East River.

 

She greets the doorman as she walks through the lobby to the elevator, still smiling as she presses the button for the floor. When she gets to her door and unlocks it her heart sinks as she sees the lights are off and all is quiet. She’d thought… she must have been wrong. She slips off her shoes, unwinds her scarf, hangs up her coat in the closet, and sets her purse down on the bench. The coat he wore this morning wasn’t in the closet either, and neither are his shoes. She closes the door, planning to go to the kitchen to see if he’s left her a message.

As she rounds the corner she catches a glimmer of light out of the corner of her eye and turns to face the living room. Mike is there, sprawled on the sofa reading, and he looks up and smiles at her. She feels an answering grin on her face and she takes a few quick steps to cross the room, throwing herself into his arms.

‘Surprised?’ he asks, and she feels the rumble of his voice in his chest.

Her grin widens. ‘Very. When I walked in, I didn’t think you were home.’

‘You haven’t even looked at the tree yet,’ he reminds her, running a hand through her hair.

She tilts her head to look at the tree. It’s the largest one yet, almost touching the ceiling, and he’s strung the lights already too, and brought the boxes of ornaments up from the basement. It’s beautiful.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she tells him, and he laughs, holding her close. She looks up at him. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you,’ he tells her, kissing her lightly. ‘Merry Christmas, Lizzie.’

‘Merry Christmas, Mike.’


End file.
